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Maybe Caitlyn had been too harsh.
She’d all but screamed at Vi during their verbal match. She knew that Jinx was Vi’s sister, Vi’s last surviving relative. She knew that Vi hoped Powder was still in there somewhere, and that Vi could never hurt her, regardless of the atrocities she committed. Caitlyn knew all of that.
She also knew that her mother had been in critical condition for weeks due to Jinx’s rocket, whether the Council deserved it or not.
And she knew that she could no longer trust her home as a place of safety, and every time she exited the shower, she saw the glint of shimmered eyes in the reflection, ready to take her away again. Vi had changed too, a cloud of heaviness following the girl who had once parkoured across the Undercity infrastructure with the weightlessness of an acrobat.
But despite all this, what she’d yelled at the pink-haired girl wasn't right.
Caitlyn sat on her bed, the sheets feeling cold. Over the past month, she and Vi had been spending time together nearly daily, usually at her house. Sometimes they went in through the front door, ignoring the gawking of nosy Piltovans seeing Vi’s bandaged hands and intense stare. Other times—most times—they climbed in through the window, as they once had before. They usually went over evidence, spoke strategy—but mostly they sat yin-yanged on her bed, enjoying a moment of comforting silence and brushes of touch.
She flipped onto her back, staring up at her illuminated ceiling. Vi had stormed off—what, a half-an-hour ago? She was likely well on her way into the depths of Zaun now. Perhaps at that Brothel they had once visited, smirking at another the way she had with her, circling and—
Caitlyn didn’t want to think about that, for whatever reason.
So she continued to stare up at her ceiling, the one Vi had ogled at the first time she’d been in here.
———
There was a knock. The Piltie wasn’t sure how long she’d dozed off, but judging by the darkness between her fluttering lashes, which a blink ago had been penetrated with light, it had been a while. A knock—why was there a knock? And scratching—she heard the sound of fingernails against glass, too. Instantly, she shot up, heart racing. Jinx. She had returned. Maybe Vi had run into her, and that’s why she was so late, and—
When Caitlyn turned to the now-opened window adjacent to the foot of her bed, instead of electric blue hair, she was greeted with electric pink. Vi pooled into the room, as graceful with her entrance as a drunkard.
“Vi!” she exclaimed, surging forward and wrapping her arms around her. The Zaunite grunted painedly in response, and only when Caitlyn immediately jumped back did she notice the streaks of dried and wet blood that coated Vi’s face and clothes. “Is that your blood? Are you okay? What happened?”
Vi didn’t reply, staring ahead and moving past her further into the room. Caitlyn shut the window quickly and followed, approaching carefully.
“Undercity’s gotten testy since the war started,” Vi said lowly, voice quivering slightly. “I’m a traitor, now.” She looked down, attention fixed on a dark splotch of dripped blood on the room's floor. “I stained your carpet.”
“It’s okay,” Caitlyn breathed out. “Come on, let’s—Let’s get you washed up.”
Vi turned to her, brows furrowed. “You don’t need to—”
“I want to,” Caitlyn interjected. At Vi’s defiant expression, she added, “Please?”
Vi’s eyes softened and she turned her face away, expression hidden by her hair. The locks bounced slightly with her almost unnoticeable nod of acceptance.
She slowly led Vi to her bathroom, ignoring the chill that passed through her bones as she entered the haunted space. She sat the other girl down in her vanity stool, leaving her there to fetch the first aid kit her father made sure she kept stashed and well-stocked in case of emergencies, as well as a spare change of clothes.
When she returned, with the kit and a cloth in hand and clothes fo, Vi was still on that seat, the only movement the uneven rise and fall of her chest as she gasped for breath. Caitlyn’s heart tore at the sight of it. Vi was the epitome of strength, and she looked absolutely shattered right now.
“Can I?” Caitlyn asked, tugging at the hem of Vi’s jacket. Vi nodded, and the taller woman peeled the red leather from her sodden skin, gently placing it on the floor beside them. The removal of the jacket sleeves revealed torn skin at her elbows and bruises on the forearms, purple and swollen. She got to work on those immediately, running the sink and wetting the towel, then shutting off the faucet. She got on her knees behind the seated Vi, gently brushing away crusted blood and dirt from her wounds. Vi jerked at the first touch, but remained generally unresponsive throughout the whole ordeal until Caitlyn applied antiseptic salve, earning a hiss. “Sorry, sorry,” she murmured soothingly. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” the other replied gruffly.
Once Vi’s arms were done with neat little bandages placed over the open wounds, Caitlyn set the rag down.
“I got you a new shirt,” she said lamely, gesturing at the pile of clothes on the floor. “Can I remove your shirt? Or would you like to do it? Or—” she asked.
Vi replied, “I’ve got it.” Caitlyn watched her muscles ripple as she pulled the white tank and the navy under-hood over her head, revealing the multitude of wounds that accounted for the red stains bleeding through the fabric of her clothing. Her fingers trembled as she pulled the simple fabric bra over her head, the blood-hardened layer stripping away like battle armour.
With Vi’s back bared to her, Caitlyn didn’t know where to start. The skin was torn, the intricate design of her full tattoo covered by abrasions and blood. Caitlyn knew she had to focus on the injuries, but she was transfixed by the ink. Her eyes trailed over the skin, draining in the details. After too long of a pause, she went back to the sink and wet the towel again, returning to her place on the floor behind Vi.
They sat in silence as she cleaned her wounds, even the occasional hisses or winces dying off. Neither of them met the other’s gaze in the mirror. Caitlyn got up again to wring out and re-wet the towel, robotically returning back to the floor, the cold marble pressing against her knees. Vi’s back was almost clean. Caitlyn could give her a top to wear until her original clothes were washed. And then, after—She’d figure out the after. She was about to make her way back to the sink, when soft sniffles froze her in place. Caitlyn worriedly leaned over to see Vi’s face, finding a tear rolling down her cheek. She’d seen Vi tear up, seen her scream, seen her shout—But she’d never seen Vi cry. She figured it had been a while since Vi had let herself cry, too.
“I don’t know what to do,” Vi admitted shakily, unsteady hands flying to cover her mouth, to cover the sound of her pain.
Caitlyn dropped the towel and wrapped her arms around Vi tightly, enveloping her in a hug from behind. One of Vi’s bloody hands covered her pristine ones, holding on like a lifeline. “It’s okay,” Caitlyn soothed, unsure of what else to say. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’m here.”
A tear fell from Vi’s eye onto her lap. “I don’t—I don’t deserve you. All I ever do is . . . ruin things. I’m the jinx.”
“You’re not a jinx,” Caitlyn assured her. ‘You’re not a jinx—God, I never should have—’ She shut her eyes solemnly, wishing she could ease Vi of all the pain she carried. Vi was strong from fighting, yes, but Caitlyn believed that how she’d built up all her resilience was truly from constantly carrying the burden of the world on her shoulders.
Vi’s face crumpled. “You don’t know what I did, Caitlyn. Every time I close my eyes, I see it. What I did. I hit her. Powder. She was just a kid, and I hit her.” She removed her hand from Cait’s, holding her palms before them, staring at them like they were weapons of absolute destruction. Caitlyn only wished Vi could see the beauty in them, the way she did. “And then I left her there. It was my job to take care of her, to keep her safe. To take care of all of them. I—I had brothers. Mylo and Claggor. And because of me, because I took them with me one night, they’re gone. They’re gone forever, and—” Another teardrop fell. “I failed all of them. Whatever happened to them, it’s on me. It’s all on me. I swore to Powder that I’d never leave her again, and then I did. I had a second chance to make things right, and I just . . . blew it. I can’t blame her for hating me. Earlier, when you were talking about how Powder didn’t exist anymore . . . I didn’t want to admit it, but you’re right. And it’s all because of me. I did this to her. To you.”
“Vi,” Caitlyn said softly, sadly. “ I shouldn’t have said that. It’s not your fault. You . . . You were in Stillwater. You were just a kid. You were just . . .” Her hands fell, now curled up in her lap. She didn’t know what exactly Vi endured in Stillwater, but she had a rough idea. It was her people that did that to her. Her chosen profession. Nothing would ever be enough to convey the shame she felt.
“Stillwater.” Vi let out a bitter laugh. “I still remember my first day there. All of a sudden, I was restrained and gagged on a boat mast and brought to some prison. Some enforcer checked me in and left me there. All I could think about was Powder. Getting back to her. Where she was. How I could have done that to my baby sister. They started to escort me to my cell, and I just lost it. I couldn’t be stuck there forever. I couldn’t. I broke free of their hold and used the restraints to strangle one of the enforcers. Two others had to pry me kicking and screaming off their back. They restrained me again. I still tried to break away. Then more Enforcers flooded the scene and I was out. I woke up in a dark little room, sleeping on a cot attached to the wall. I was wearing different clothes. As soon as I was awake enough, I started banging on the door and screaming, demanding they let me out. Demanding they tell me where I was. Demanding they tell me where Powder was. The prison guard just peered through the little door in the window and grimaced with disgust. I spent the rest of the day watching through that small opening and listening. Stillwater. I was in Stillwater. Almost my entire family was dead, and the last I’d seen my little sister, she was on the floor with Silco standing over her, a knife behind his back.”
“I’m so sorry—” Caitlyn started.
“Don’t apologize,” Vi interjected. “Please, just—don’t.”
Caitlyn understood. It wasn’t often that Vi allowed herself to be so vulnerable. Sharing all of this was already her baring her soul. If she had to deal with pity on top of that, it just solidified the idea that she was weak. They’d deal with that mentality later. For now, Caitlyn just nodded and changed aim.
“Keep talking,” Cait urged. “If you want to.” The Topsider rummaged through her first aid kid again, pulling out the antiseptic balm. The muscles in Vi’s back relaxed ever so slightly.
“One time,” she continued, “when we were in the courtyard for mandatory exercise, I spotted these two Undercity douchebags. I knew they worked for Silco. I approached them and asked where Powder was. They gave no answer. Told me to fuck off. So I beat them up. They were, like, twice my size. And I had them on their asses. Enforcers dragged me away, and I went easily. I got what I wanted.”
“How do you do that?” Caitlyn marvelled. “You were . . . how old were you? How were you so strong?”
Vi shrugged. “16. And I’ve been fighting all my life. It’s all I know.” Caitlyn applied the salve to Vi’s abrasions and the pink-haired girl winced in discomfort. “Not that strong, apparently.”
“Oh, hush.” There was silence for a minute.
“Wanna know what my nickname was?” Vi asked.
She replied, “Yes.” It was probably something really grisly, something that reflected on the terror Vi instilled in the prison. Something—
“Pink.”
Oh. “Pink?” Caitlyn repeated. Well, it made sense. She had pink hair. Still, she’d been—
“Expecting something more badass?” Vi said, as if reading her thoughts. Caitlyn nodded. “Yeah, well, I guess the pink is a defining characteristic. It’s kinda cool, you know. Punchy. Pink.”
“Pink,” Caitly echoed, using that same tone. “I see it.”
There was silence again. Caitlyn resumed cleaning and bandaging Vi’s back, her eyes continuously following the lines of her tattoo. She was lost in the art, taken into a world of punctures and ink and gears.
“I know you want to ask something,” Vi said. Caitlyn felt her face heat at that.
“Sorry. It’s just . . . Your tattoos. Can I—?”
Vi understood her words, nodding in confirmation. “Yeah, go ahead. Just avoid the bloody parts, you know.”
“Of course.” Caitlyn trailed her fingers along the dark lines, her nails scraping lightly against the skin. Vi shivered at the touch, a shudder rippling down her spine. Caitlyn paused, returning her tactile search when she got a look to keep going from Vi.
“Did you get them in Stillwater?” she finally inquired, unable to resist.
Vi nodded, her pink bangs bobbing at the movement. “Yep. I did them myself.”
“You designed them?”
“Designed and inked them,” Vi corrected. Caitlyn could only gape. Designing them was impressive enough. They were self-inked too?
“Wow,” she breathed out. “You’re amazing.”
Vi breathed out a shaky sigh, gaze on the floor again. “Not that amazing. I didn’t actually ink them—Well. I did the outlines. Tried filling them in on my own, but there were too many parts I just couldn’t reach. So I just did most of the arms, and got help on the back. Not that amazing.”
Caitlyn was silent for a moment. Then, “Why do you always do that?”
“Do what?”
“Push away all your accomplishments. Refuse to accept praise. I can’t possibly imagine how someone as . . . As beautiful and brave and simply amazing as you could see herself so lowly.”
“Because I’m not the amazing one!” Vi snapped, abruptly standing from her place on the stool. “I’m just the one with the fists. Powder’s the amazing one. She’s the smart one, the one with the artistic talent, and innovation, and every single fucking indication that she would be the one to lead the high life! My place is down in the Undercity—I’ve always known that. Powder was supposed to have more. I was supposed to give her more! She’s not the one who’s supposed to be a fucking terrorist and murderer and—” A wet, heavy sob broke Vi’s words. “The Undercity was never supposed to break her. I was supposed to protect her from that, from ever needing to do what she had to to survive. I was supposed to save Vander, and then he, Claggor, Mylo, Powder, and I would be living in The Last Drop happily, and Silco would be rotting in Stillwater instead. But that didn’t happen, and now—Now everyone has moved on! Everyone changed, and I’m just fucking stuck here. I’m—Fuck!” Vi’s already bloodied fist pounded against the bathroom counter, a spiderweb crack and powder erupting from her blow. Vi staggered away from the counter, eyes wide and drenched in guilt. “I’m sorry,” she choked out. “I’m so sorry—”
“It’s fine—” Caitlyn said quickly, not caring one bit about her broken counter when Vi herself was shattering before her. “Vi, I really don’t care. Please, just—” Caitlyn reached out to her, only to get her hands swatted away. She could feel her expression warp with sadness, the emotions coursing through her too heavy to keep a brave face.
“I don’t need your pity,” Vi seethed.
“It’s not pity!” Caitlyn exclaimed. “It’s concern! I’m worried, Vi! You disappear after an argument and return mangled! And now you’re self-destructing and refusing any help. You cannot continue on like this, Vi! You can’t. I can’t—I can’t help you if you refuse any help. I can’t help you if you push me away and yell in my face! I care about you, Vi. You don’t need to do everything yourself, Vi. You can’t.”
Even after that emotional confession, Vi just scoffed, her face hardened with anger. “It’s just like a Piltie to tell me what I can and can’t do. What next? Will you throw me in jail if I fail to comply? Maybe get one of your Enforcer or Councillor friends to do it so your hands remain clean? Huh, Caitlyn Kiramman?”
Vi spat out her last name with such disgust, such resentment, that Caitlyn physically recoiled. Caitlyn knew that Vi had every right to hate her and everyone in Piltover, and that she was going through things Caitlyn could not imagine. She was incredibly fortunate that she couldn’t. But the intensity of this conversation was too much, and Caitlyn’s mother had been lying in a hospital bed with a questionable chance of survival for months thanks to Vi’s sister, her father a wreck in the absence of his wife. Caitlyn hadn’t slept well in who knew how long, and now the one person who had been bringing her comfort was expressing how much she loathed Caitlyn for things Caitlyn herself loathed herself for, too.
“If that’s how you feel,” Caitlyn started lowly, her words almost indiscernible with their joint heavy breathing, “then leave.”
“What?” Vi breathed out, obviously not expecting that. Then she hardened again, “I will. Thanks for the permission, Officer Kiramman.” She grabbed the spare shirt and pulled it over her head in a swift motion, the careful work Caitlyn had done of cleaning and addressing Vi’s back now ruined. Vi quickly made her way to the door.
“Vi!” Caitlyn called out, the other girl abruptly halting and turning to face her.
“What?”
Caitlyn strode across the room, closing the distance between them. “Don’t leave,” she pleaded.
The anger drained from Vi’s face, replaced with cautiousness. “You told me to.”
“I often say things I don't mean. You know that well,” Caitlyn replied, Vi looking down in admittance.
“Yeah. Me too. Sorry.”
“No.” Caitlyn held Vi’s face in her hands, forcing the other girl to meet her eyes, turbulent storms boring into clear skies. “Don’t say sorry. Don’t apologize.”
“Okay,” Vi whispered. “Caitlyn.”
Said girl remained with her hands on Vi’s face, their bodies impossibly close to where she could feel the heat radiating off of the other girl. “Yes?”
“Caitlyn,” Vi simply repeated, so much emotion in her voice it felt as though it would swallow them both. “Can I kiss you? Please.”
Her breath hitched in her throat. “Yes,” she said hoarsely. “God, yes.”
Their lips met slowly and cautiously, both afraid that the other would pull away at any moment. When they finally joined, it felt as though a switch had gone off in Caitlyn’s mind. She’d kissed other girls before, but this felt right and final. Her face fit perfectly in the concave of Vi’s, their lips locking like an oath. For all the harsh words Vi spoke, her lips were soft and warm, pliant against Caitlyn’s.
They were out of breath already but too deep into their plunge to think of resurfacing for air. Caitlyn’s hands slowly moved, one hand lowering slightly to rest on her jaw and the other running through Vi’s hair, earning a pleased hum. Vi’s hands, used to so much violence and carved with callouses, trailed along Caitlyn’s body with a gentleness that she’d never seen before—not because was treating her as if she were delicate and breakable, but as if she were holy. Revered. Loved. A shiver ran through her at Vi’s fingertips skimming down her sides, eliciting a gasp that made Vi pause smile that beautiful grin at her, so contagious that it spread to Caitlyn’s lips as well.
“You are so beautiful,” Caitlyn whispered into their shared space, swearing she could see the conflicted emotions swirl in her eyes. Caitlyn pressed their foreheads together, and for a blissful moment, they both stood there, breathing each other’s air and holding each other’s bodies. “All of you. Inside and out.”
“Caitlyn,” Vi replied raspily, her face emanating such heat that Caitlyn felt it on her forehead, branding her. She had no doubt she was just as flushed. “I—”
Vi didn’t say it outright, but Caitlyn could feel what she wanted to express. The deep well of emotions resided in her as well, and with each shared heartbeat between them it was harder and harder not to let them both drown in it.
Their lips met again, this time more passionate and urgent. They were even closer—if possible—Vi’s back pressed against the door with Caitlyn’s arms wrapped around her, her hands steadying her. Vi’s hands travelled wildly across Caitlyn’s body, learning all the planes and curves. Her tongue urged for more and Caitlyn gave it to her, her lips parting.
Vi made a low sound and Caitlyn could feel the wetness on her cheeks, tears slowly sliding down her face and dribbling down her jaw.
“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” Caitlyn murmured reassuringly, pressing her lips softly to every bead on her face, kissing her tears away.
Vi laughed shakily, the gratitude evident in her face. “You know, now that I’ve tasted you, I can confirm that you really are sweet. Just like a cupcake.”
“Oh, shut up.”